


The owner of the black Hummer

by orphan_account



Series: 2015 Valentines [5]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Gen, Pre-Slash, mentions of eating disorders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 00:09:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3360488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone parked in Will Strife's parking place and smashed down his sign.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The owner of the black Hummer

**Author's Note:**

> Valentine for [Vic](http://bl00dandcha0s.tumblr.com/).

Will Strife stares glumly at the massive Hummer parked sloppily in his parking space. Because of this rude jerk, he just had to park much farther away than he normally does. Ordinarily, this wouldn’t be a problem.

What _is_ a problem, however, is the abhorrent parking job the driver of the garish black and red Hummer performed. Not only is it poking into the handicapped parking space, but the driver actually drove straight into the sign that informs _literate_ people that this parking spot is meant for Will Strife. 

The sign is bent and stuck under the ridiculously huge front bumper. Can that even be called a bumper? The whole thing looks like a tank. It’s so energy inefficient and garish and _disgusting_. Just like the personality of whoever parked it here, Will is sure.

He doesn’t have time to do anything to the Hummer now. Will shakes his head one last time and sets off towards the door of the channel headquarters building. His show will be live in approximately two and a half hours, but he has a thousand things to do before that. 

Still, he has time to stop by the security booth and inform them of the vandalism outside.

“If you can find out who that belongs to,” Will says as he finishes the description of the damage. 

“We’ll work on it,” the woman sitting at the booth assures him. 

“Thanks,” Will says. He walks away from the booth and checks his watch. 

It’s about time that he should meet the talent that’s going to be performing on the show. He steps into the elevator the moment before the doors start closing and presses the button for his floor. Usually, he would walk up the stairs and get some exercise, but _usually_ , he was able to park at his designated spot and arrive with time to spare. 

The elevator stops twice to let off some of the passengers before it reaches Will’s floor. He steps out and sets off towards the green room where the talent should be arriving soon. But before he can reach the room, his assistant dashes up to him and matches his pace.

“Will,” she says breathlessly, “I’m so glad you’re finally here,”

“Finally?” Will repeats. “I’m on time.” He glances at his watch again. “Three minutes early.”

“They got here over ten minutes ago,” she explains. 

Oh dear. 

“I’ve gotten them refreshments, but I didn’t want to take them to the studio until you arrived,” she adds.

“That was a good call on your part,” Will says, and smiles reassuringly at her. “I’ll take things from here. Relax a bit. Good job on keeping them calm.”

“Well,” she says. “Sparkles* is actually very mild and his band is pretty calm too. But their manager is a bit… ah… he’s a bit aggressive. Not in a bad way! More like… um. overly assertive? It’s not awful. But just, it’s a bit uncomfortable.”

Will nods. That type of manager can be unsettling, but it can be a very good thing for a beginning artist. Sparkles* has only just entered the spotlight with a beautifully moving single and accompanying music video on YouTube. His other work is good too, but he’s likely not used to the attention. His manager must be doing a good job of handling the fame so that Sparkles* can still retain his original musical integrity. 

He pushes the door to the green room open and is instantly met with a tall, dark-haired man in one of the most casual forms of business casual dress Will has ever seen. His black shirt is tucked in, but the top two buttons are unbuttoned, revealing more of his flawless skin. This man smiles widely and approaches Will without hesitation.

Will assumes this is the manager. 

“I apologize for keeping you waiting,” Will says. “My name is William Strife and I am the host of the live Musical Talent Television show.”

“Alex Parvis,” he says, stepping into Will’s personal bubble. He offers his hand for Will to shake, which Will does immediately. Parvis’ hand is cool, and his grip is firm. Will can respect that.

“This is Sparkles*,” Parvis continues. He gestures to a redhead sitting in a corner of the room cradling a guitar in his lap. Sparkles* lifts a hand off his guitar to wave at Will. “And there’s Leo, Kogie, and Luke,” Parvis says, pointing to each of the other three gentlemen sitting around the coffee table loaded with a moderate amount of food and beverages. On second inspection, Will notices that Sparkles* has a half-glass of water but nothing else. He hopes the young man isn’t already suffering from an eating disorder, which Will has seen far too often in young musicians.

If he is, he hopes Parvis is doing something about it.

Will returned his attention to the manager. “I can give you a rundown of your schedule for this evening.”

“Thanks,” Parvis says with that constant wide smile, “But we already went over the information your studio sent us last week. Maybe just give us a tour where they’ll be performing? It’ll give the guys a better idea of what they can expect.”

“That’s perfectly fine,” Will says. He moves around Parvis, who has not moved since they greeted each other, and crosses to a locked door on the other side of the room. “Just through here.”

He retrieves his keycard from his pocket and swipes it at the scanner just to the side of the door. Then he types in a code on the number pad below the scanner. “You’ll be able to open this door whenever you want now,” he explains. 

“Awesome,” one of the band members says. Will doesn’t see who it is, but he knows it’s not Sparkles*. He’s heard his songs enough times to get an idea of what his speaking voice might be like. 

Will holds the door open so Sparkles*, the band, and Parvis to enter the space beyond. He leads the group of people past clusters of lights, cameras, microphones, and special effects equipment to the stage. 

“Wow, it looks a lot different than when it’s on TV,” another band member comments. This one is Leo, if Will remembers correctly. 

“The lighting, camera angles, and special effects contribute to that,” Will explains. “I notice that most of your guitars were already in the green room. As for the percussion… we have a few drum sets available at the studio, but if you’ve brought your own, we can get that set up soon.”

Sparkles* speaks up, “We’ll set it up ourselves. Thanks.”

Will nods. “I can get some people to help you bring it up.”

Leo shakes his head. “Don’t bother. Parv got us a parking space really close to the front doors. We can bring them up ourselves. I don’t feel that comfortable when other people touch them.”

Kogie elbows him with a grin. “You don’t trust us with them half the time.”

Leo glares at him. “You almost dropped one the first time you picked them up.”

Parvis just smiles at the interaction, leaving Sparkles* to usher the bickering bandmates back to the green room. Will is left behind with the manager.

“So, Will,” Parvis says pleasantly. “You’ve been the host here for six years now. Seen a lot of bands and musicians come and go, haven’t you?”

Will nods. “We’ve had a lot of repeat artists come by. And there’s also the ones who show up once and never find a way to repeat their initial burst of fame.”

“That’s unfortunate,” Parvis says with a small sigh. “Good thing for people like Sparkles* though, since there’s less competition.” His smile turns predatory for a brief moment. Will appreciates that. Musical artists will be completely sweet and polite to each other in front of the cameras, and even when they’re not in front of the cameras, but it’s always the managers who need to be ruthless and unrelenting in order to keep their talent on top of the game.

With someone like Parvis, Will could see Sparkles* staying in the spotlight. 

“So what do you like about music then?” Parvis asks. “The music or the people?”

Will chuckles. “Discovering new people, maybe. The music is always intriguing, especially when it starts new movements, but the people are great. I like keeping tabs on the interesting people.”

Parvis is somehow closer than Will remembered him being last. “Then can I give you our contact information?”

Will doesn’t respond for a moment. “Well, I already have it--”

Parv winks and raises two fingers to his lips, kisses them, then places the fingers against Will’s cheek. “Maybe on your personal phone, Will.”

Will stares unblinking at Parvis. “Are you hitting on me?” he finally asks.

“Yes.” Parvis crosses his arms and stands his ground, confidently. His eyelids are low and Will has to admit it’s extremely attractive. “Is it working?”

Will rolls his eyes and groans. He places a hand against his forehead and shakes his head. “You sort of came out of nowhere with that. I don’t know--”

Any further conversation, however, is cut short by Parvis’ phone buzzing a song that Will recognizes as the chorus of one of the songs that Sparkles* will be performing this evening.

Parvis takes out his phone and glances at the name on the screen, then back at Will. “We’ll pick this up soon,” he says. He answers the phone. “Yeah, Leo?”

Will doesn’t like to eavesdrop, but Parvis is standing so close to him that he can’t help but hear the conversation.

_“There’s some security at your car, Parv. They want to fine you for your shit parking job. Also, you’re a liar. There was totally a sign. You just ran it the fuck over.”_

Will gapes at Parv.

That little _shit_.


End file.
